Now I once hunted all night, but these days, I like to get a full nights sleep, in my secluded cat bed under the sideboard. But the sound of a late night dreamies party can penetrate the deepest sleep. And it seems Nemo, who is the alpha male cat in this halfway house for half-tamed ferals and feline misfits (yours truly excepted, of course), has quite mastered the art of bouts of late night bunting, head bumping if you will, to profess his undying 'love' for the hoomans, who get unaccountably, tender hearted late at night, and are easy targets for Nemo to lure downstairs, and pay him off (and whoevers in tow, which is by now, most of the cats, as they can all hear a dreamies packet crinkling, at truly staggering distances, in the wee, dead hours of the night.)
So, thats why you'll often find me, bleary and blinking in the midnight kitchen, a little after the 'party' has broken up, a hooman saying, 'open another packet, Igor didn't get any' and that, dear friends, is sweet music to my ears!
Love Igor